Wet
by DollyPop12
Summary: They were supposed to locate a killer, not sleep with each other.


The goal was to find Joe's killer, whether it was him or otherwise. That was all that was in the plans. They knew, the moment they stepped out of Death City, that there would be small comfort granted to them on that trip, that it would be difficult, should have been nothing but plans and roughing it for who even knew how long. Marie was a stubborn woman; she'd scour the ends of the Earth to prove his innocence, but Stein finds that in the whirlwind that is her, he is more caught up in her gale than he is in finding who the real killer was. Is.

Not that he isn't invested. The only thing waiting for him back at Death City, home, as Marie called it, was the death penalty if they returned empty handed. Or, rather, red handed.

In more ways than one, he thinks wryly. Because though the goal was to find Joe's killer, though they knew they wouldn't be able to have hotel rooms, beds, a proper mattress, decent food, there were some comforts that they still had available to them.

They were supposed to locate a killer, not fuck each other.

He wasn't ever particularly good at doing what he was "supposed" to do, regardless, and he wasn't sorry, either. His hand was on the flare of her hip, clothed, still, and she ran her touch up his arm while he kissed her. She'd long since fluttered her eye shut, long since settled upon the lab-coat that he placed down atop the sleeping bags they'd found a way to combine. Death, the desert was cold, at night, and she shivered beneath him as he sucked on her upper lip, taking the meat of her pout between his teeth.

It was difficult to tell whether the gooseflesh running up her body was because of him or because of the temperature, though judging by the way she was making soft, wanting noises in the back of her throat, breathing hard through her nose as they made out like horny teenagers who couldn't keep it in their pants on a damn assignment, he'd assume he had more than a little fault in her shudders.

He thinks his libido must have finally caught up with him, some time recently. Living with Marie was one thing, they had walls, physical and otherwise, that could separate them. She had her own room with a lock she wouldn't use at night though everyone told her she was shacking up with a "madman" (he'd seen her throw more than one person through a wall for that phrase, too) and they had space away from each other. He could _create_ space between them. Weapon partner or no, he'd always had a fantastic talent at pushing others away.

Out in the barren desert? Not so easy. He couldn't avoid noting the way her collar gaped open, revealing collarbones he didn't want to admit he'd mark with mouth-shaped bruises, the tops of full breasts. They couldn't get a break away from being around each other, and he finds that he doesn't really want one, either. Because he'd never cared about the physical, before. Not in that way. It would be one thing if that was all it was because since when was he unable to ignore such things? No, it was that though he prefered solitude to just about anything else, though he had such a gift at keeping others away, he just wanted to…be with her. He looked forward to his conversations with her, to feeling her gentle wavelength, to holding her to him.

But not like that night in the graveyard. Nothing like that.

Death, he hated seeing her upset. He remembers how she'd covered half her face, sobbing and shuddering against him, and he thinks he would have actually become a murderer, gladly, if he could get his hands on who made Marie cry. But that was a past, dark and looming, he didn't want to focus on.

He only had enough blood, frankly speaking, for one head at a time, and he was finding that thinking was becoming overwhelming and unnecessary as Marie let out a different kind of cry when he pulled away from their kiss, resting his forehead on her own. His fingers hitched beneath her shirt, stroking the smooth skin of her belly and she arched up to him, to his touch. He smirked, taking note of how swollen her lips had gotten. Kiss-pink, shining.

Even in the darkness of a world with just the judging moon as illumination, Marie seemed to glow. It was faint, a subtle, golden tinge to her skin that guided his hands, lazily drawing out words on her skin, even as he bent his head to lick the line of her exposed, vulnerable throat, which she bared to him so easily.

He felt her contented hum against his lips as he laved down to where her collarbones dipped, one hand coming forward to unbutton her shirt, top to bottom. With each button popping free, he trailed his mouth down, smug at the fact that she was squirming, trying to get more than just a brush of his lips over her hot skin.

In a near freezing desert, she was all too flushed for it to be the cold that was affecting her.

Marie's strong point hadn't ever been patience, not really, and she began to undo the buttons as well, working from bottom to top, instead. When their hands knocked into one another, he only chuckled, softly pushing her own to the side as he opened her shirt, nuzzling between her breasts.

The black bra was utilitarian, plain, but he'd probably be attracted to her regardless of what she wore, considering it wasn't going to last long on her, regardless. Besides which, seeing her that bare was already a privilege, he didn't give a damn about fancy scraps of cloth. She shimmied out of her shirt and his palm cupped her lower back, helping to lift her slightly to ease the process. After that was done, he made a slow, purposeful line up her back, pressing down on each bump of her vertebrae until he found the clasp to her bra, not yet undoing it. She wiggled beneath him as he kissed what of her was exposed, leaving red marks on her breasts and especially between them, tugging the cups around so he had better access. She whined, rising up on her elbows, which sunk into the ground slightly since they were atop nothing but a flimsy sleeping bag set on sand, as though willing for him to remove what cloth was left on her torso.

He chuckled, only sliding his touch into the cups to caress her nipple, making her gasp. He moved his free hand over her ribcage and around, finally undoing the clasps when she was distracted. The bra joined her shirt to the side and he cupped one now-exposed breast as he licked at the other, circling around her areola and softly sucking. She arched into his mouth and he pinched her nipple, making her jump. When he noted her shivers, he rubbed her side as though to keep her warm. He smirked while he made his way downward, slowly licking a line toward her navel before he heard her squeak, a hand coming to his neck.

He blinked, tilting his face up so he could look her in the eye from his spot at her belly. She looked slightly embarrassed when she looked down at him, face flushed, breathing hard.

"Y-you don't have to," she said, the blush over her cheeks seeming to deepen. "Not many showers in the area, recently."

He lifted a brow, mildly surprised by her…bashfulness. But he remembers that she was the kind of woman who always smelled of artificial vanilla and perfume, and that could be why she was suddenly so overly-conscious.

He doesn't mind, either way. He had a natural aversion to licorice and various other overpowering smells, but he didn't mind anything she wore. Couldn't. And besides which, instead of sweet and fruity she smelled…organic. Real. She didn't smell of soap or body spray but of skin and sweat, of herself. He slowly lowered his head and laid a kiss on her hip, stroking her. When his nose bumped her hipbone, he made sure to take a deep inhale. "And if I want to?" he asked, biting down slightly until she bucked.

He sucked on the skin of her hipbones, lightly scraping his teeth until she whimpered, stroking his hair. She whispered out his name, rubbing his scalp and he closed his eyes to her affections. "Do you want me to, Marie?" he asked her, having a feeling what the answer was, but making sure there was no pressure in his asking, and her tender ministrations faltered.

"I-" she cut herself off, anticipating some line from him, but he simply waited. "Are you sure?" she asked, biting her lip, and he snorted, his breath hot on her flesh.

"Yes. Do you want me to eat you out?" The slang was unfamiliar, to him. He'd much rather ask using proper terminology but the last thing he wanted to do was make her cringe by asking her 'would you like me to perform cunnilingus?' For some reason, he doubted it would go over well.

She sucks in a harsh gasp at his question, surprised at how he phrased it, and he notes how her her thighs rub together, slightly. He dips his head so he can kiss along her waist, his calloused fingers gently rubbing invisible shapes into her skin. "Franken," she whispered, and something in her voice had changed, gotten more ragged. He hid his smirk by moving his lips down to the line where her skin was hidden to him by fabric. His touch went up to her sternum, tracing the underside of her exposed breasts.

"Can I, Marie?" He looked up, once more and she stared down, the warm flush over her face deepening. She took in another jagged breath and he was ready to open his mouth and tell her she smelled amazing. With how turned on she was, already, he didn't have a hard time catching the scent of sex considering all she had between them was a pair of thin shorts and even thinner panties.

There was something hot and natural about it, about her, and he thinks he could find himself between her legs for longer than most would deem appropriate, already looking forward to seeing her unravel around him. He had begun gently scraping her skin with his fingernails, barely butterflies of touch, but it made her shiver, and when she moved to cup his face, he found himself leaning into her touch. She took the moment to pull his glasses off of his face, likely knowing they'd only fog up and get in the way while he was between her legs, and she nodded, softly saying "Yes," smiling so sweetly.

He wanted to see her dazed. Dripping. Able to say nothing but his name.

Stein made sure to lift his face enough to show her his smirk and he dragged his hands down her sides. Still holding their gaze, he unbuttoned her shorts, slowly shimmying them down and lifting her legs up as he did so until the fabric was around her calves and she was on her back, feet in the air. He kissed the underside of her thighs, pale and soft, before he gently bit down. With a surgeon's hand, he lightly stroked her through the thin cloth of her panties and she jolted at the feeling, shivering with how sensitive she was.

He brought a forearm to the back of her knees and he sucked on the flesh, leaving mouth-shaped bruises over her legs, dragging his tongue from one to the next as he made his way to her pelvis. She was crying out softly, legs kept in the air, hips swiveling as though asking for attention. His lips tipped up when he mouthed the inner flesh of her thighs, Marie's eye looking dazed when he spared her a glance, the pupil so blown open, there was barely a sliver of gold left. She was arching her back, trying to find more friction since his stroking had gotten firmer: smooth, long motions that teased her through what little clothing she had left. When he stopped the motion, she whined, already having started rocking into his touch. Stein set another kiss to her thighs, atop one of the hickeys he'd left her with, and she whimpered.

Slowly, he brought his now free hand to her shorts, finally tugging them off and then pushing her legs open so the back of her knees came to his shoulders. When he looked up at her, his eyes were strained, but the pink flush on her face, her mouth open and panting, it was too good of a sight to pass up. With a final smug grin, he lowered his head. She must have thought he was going to remove her panties, perhaps with his teeth, but instead, he gently parted her through her panties, pressing an open mouthed kiss to where her clit was through the underwear, leaving the blonde to gasp at the surprising, blunted sensation.

Dragging it out, he slid his tongue to the spot, saturating it in spit and pressing forward as far as possible through the material to wet her. Marie's eyes fluttered shut as she panted, taking in the feeling. Pulling away only slightly, Stein blew on the wet spot and saw how Marie shivered, the white fabric going somewhat transparent from the saliva. He did the same to where her entrance was through the cloth, ignoring the texture of the cotton as the taste of her came through, his tongue applying pressure. He saturated the cloth with spit, pulling back so he could hook his thumbs under the fabric to spread her farther.

"Oh!" Marie squeaked out, feeling herself open slightly at the motion, throbbing. Even though he couldn't see how she was being gently exposed, the sound she made more than made up for it, and he went back to tongue her through her panties while Marie clenched her fists, yearning for more direct contact. Almost carelessly, he bunched the fabric and pushed upward, rubbing her with her own panties. She bucked to no avail, since Stein brought his palm to her hip, keeping her immobile. His fingers barely settled over the flesh of her hips, softly rubbing as though to tease her further. She set her hand atop his, her voice coming out high and breathless.

"Please?" she asked, trying to move his touch lower, but he gently pushed her hand away, encircling her wrist and pressed it to the side. The restraint made her cry out while he used his other hand to further move her panties aside, nuzzling her. She made a sobbing sound, arching to his mouth as best she could. "Please, Franken?"

She could feel his self-satisfied smile as he tilted his head, kissing her labia and carefully swirling his tongue around her entrance, making her gasp, her wrist twisting under his hold. She was so wet because of him, and he made a low, wanting noise when he finally got access to how slick she had gotten. Her sigh was one of relief as he tenderly tongued her, seeming to take in the taste of her. He left go of her hand, pulling back only long enough to slip her panties off before sliding his palms beneath her and cupping her ass, pressing his fingers into the soft flesh and enjoying how she squirmed. He carefully tilted her hips up so he had better access.

The scent of her alone had already started to get to him, but having her on his tongue, hot and slippery, was enough to have him throbbing. Her soft sounds in response to what he was doing, circling her entrance before gently sliding his tongue into her, deftly thrusting a few times before going back to swirling around, were getting louder, though it seemed as though she was trying to hold down her pleasured sighs. When he glanced up, he saw how she was biting her hand, muffling herself, and when their eyes met, she seemed to gush. The hand he'd released his hold on came to card through his hair, urging him on.

She was slick, pulsing, and he dragged his tongue over her as slowly as he could, as though memorizing her taste before he found her clit, feeling her jolt. She was sensitive, then. His thumb came to her opening, mimicking the motions he'd been maintaining earlier, using her slickness and gently dipping into her as he softly sucked. She wailed, her thighs twitching up and around his ears, her hips circling.

Her panting got faster, the cry sharpening when he only sucked at her harder, licking at her at the same time. His thumb swirled around until he withdrew it, instead slicking up his middle finger and slowly pushing it into her. Her eye closed, body tensing as he found her g-spot and rubbed, tapping. She clenched around him when he hummed, as though amused, her body arching up sharply before rearing back, calves twitching each time he stimulated her clit.

She must have been getting close, her voice breaking off. There was nothing in his ears but her light, needy "Oh"s and "F-Fra-Frank-Franken!"s and drawn out hisses of "Sssssstein". Her very breath was shuddery, her eye rolling into the back of her head. At that, he moved his face away, pressing his finger against her walls more firmly.

"Marie," he called, to which she only responded with a high whine, circling her hips more aggressively. "Marie," he said, again, this time more urgently. "Look at me," he demanded.

Her eye fluttered open and she seemed dazed, but her gaze settled downward to where he was between her legs, still pleasuring her. She moaned when she saw him, panting hard. He locked onto her eye, kissing her clit before licking at her once more, lips forming a seal and sucking, again. She cried out, throwing her head back, but his fingers dug into the flesh of her ass slightly, as though warning, and she squirmed, forcing herself to look back at him, maintaining contact.

Looking into his eyes as he pleased her made her toes curl, her voice coming out as a keening whimper. He ran his tongue in circles, matching how she was swiveling her hips, but it was looking at him, how focused he was on her face, how turned on he looked, that made her feel dizzy. Her world narrowed to him and the rising tension in her body, her ankles hooking behind his head. He tilted her hips more and she gasped, brokenly telling him to keep going.

He was tempted to close his eyes, surrender to the overwhelming urge of taking in how she felt. The only thing in his mind was her, her scent in his nose, cries echoing around him, the taste of her seeped in his mouth. And he was so _hard_ , aching for her. She'd abandoned trying to be quiet, and her hand had come to her breasts, playing with her nipples as she panted for him. She was pulsing heavily around his finger it was as though she never wanted him to leave. But it seemed what he was doing was going well for him, and he kept it up, though his jaw had started to protest, his wrist likely angry at him come tomorrow. She called out loudly, jaggedly, her "yes!" and whimpered calls of his name telling him he was doing well.

As he looked at her, he could see the exact moment when things started to tip over, when she popped her mouth open with a sobbing breath, her body tensing entirely before her legs reared up and her back arched higher. Her hold on his hair tightened but she held his gaze as best she could, even though her eye was rolling, head being thrown about. He didn't ease up, all but moaning at the sound of her high pitched wail even as he stimulated her through her orgasm, her trembles continuing for long, drawn out minutes.

He waited until her throbbing softened to flutters before he carefully pulled his finger out of her, instead gently lapping at her opening as she softly called out for him. She made breathy noises, soft squeaks as she squirmed with each swipe of his tongue, and he finally allowed his eyes to close as he laved over her, making sure that he didn't irritate her with his stubble. Her hips bucked as he licked her clean and he released his hold on her ass, instead soothing the outside of her thighs with hands that only knew how to destroy, before.

When she weakly pushed at him, still so hyper-sensitive to touch, he pulled away, and his damp face caught the cool breeze. When they looked at each other again, her expression was vulnerable and open. He kissed each of her hipbones as he made his way back up to her, her legs coming off his shoulders and back to the ground with a thump. Slowly, he brushed his lips over her belly, each bump of her ribcage, between her sternum, until he got to the hollow of her throat, scraping his teeth over her collarbones. She made a muffled squeal when he worried the skin between his teeth, leaving a mark, and then kissed over the line of her throat until he was finally back at her face.

They were so close to each other, he could have gone cross-eyed. She was still breathing hard, and her arm came around him, almost bonelessly.

"Oh, God," she said, and he realized that she'd been whispering it the entire time, still dazed from her orgasm.

Frankly, he doesn't know when she got so religious. He cupped the back of her neck, bringing the finger that was still wet with her to her lips and tracing over her cupid's bow. She shivered, but she was pliant, her eyelashes batting at him without even meaning to. There was still a heavy flush over her face, her shoulders: she was rosy from throat to knees, the pink collecting most prominently over her hips.

She was still puffy.

Still grinning, he dipped his head down, kissing her and licking her lips. She made a low sound at the action, opening her mouth to him immediately and he shared her taste with her. It was heady and he had barely pulled away from eating her out, but being reminded of how she tasted immediately made him want to go back, listen to her lose herself because of him, cum because of him. She was so strong she could decimate whole buildings to rubble, could argue her way out of each fight: and he'd turned her eloquence into an incoherent babble, calling out for him and his hands and his mouth.

He bumped his nose against her own, pulling away enough that he could look at her but still so close they were sharing breath. The sand had, thankfully, stayed beneath his lab-coat, and Marie looked comfortable enough. Still, he pulled her to him, eclipsing her from the outside world. When she breathed out "Oh, God," again, he was tempted to joke that he preferred "Franken". Instead, he only rubbed his thumb behind her ear, kissing the corner of her mouth as she collected herself.

Tenderly, he guided her face to the crook of his neck and she nuzzled at him, finally gathering enough strength to be affectionate, again. Her hands hitched beneath his shirt to rub his scarred skin: not in a sexual way, either. Instead, her fingers were glowing gold, easing any tension out of him. He closed his eyes, settling her against his body more firmly, making sure to maneuver her so she wasn't in direct contact with how hard he was.

He didn't want to make it about him. Not then. Come morning, she'd probably be tense and serious, again, on their hunt to find proof of his "innocence". He wanted her to relax, to be pleased.

She had such faith in him. A slew of crimes he'd committed in his life, but not that one. Never that one. Especially not when she was around, when he could find comfort in just being around her.

It was so quiet when she was there. And he had gotten so sick of noise.

Carefully, he wrapped her in his lab-coat, thanking what sense he'd had to lay the sleeping bag beneath it, and she squirmed around until she was settled against him, working her way out of the oversized jacked until her bare breasts pressed to his shirt. She'd have to get dressed, soon, which is a damn shame considering how good she looked still flushed and naked. She found where his collar gaped open and laid the most loving kiss onto his throat, and though he found it difficult to trust almost anyone, his body instinctively bared to her, chin lifting up to make room. Marie smiled, moving her hands up his shirt until she could feel his heart beating.

He needed a smoke, but he didn't want to disrupt the calm, relaxed state she was in by making her wrinkle her nose at the smell. Besides that, when he swallowed, he could still find traces of her taste and he didn't want to choke that away with a menthol.

It was uncomfortable, laying there on his side, Marie using up most of the cushy sleeping bags they'd been able to drag along with them, but he didn't mind, much. She was soft against him, shivering slightly when the cool breeze hit her sweating skin, and he pulled her closer, sharing body heat.

* * *

 **Written for SteinMarie Week 2k15. Day 1: Monster. And what better monster than a pussy monster?**


End file.
